Miss Callaghan Comes To Grief (15 page)

Sadie looked at him, and then her face crumpled. She hastily put up her hands and began to cry.

Jay said, “Take it easy. You're safe now. Tell me. It's true, isn't it?”

She nodded without speaking.

“Now listen, Mrs. Perminger. It's goin' to be all right. You've got to take me into your confidence. I can guess something of what happened to you but I want the full story. You saw the guy who killed Mendetta, didn't you?”

She sat up, terrified. “Who told you?” she gasped.

“I guessed that's how they tricked you to leave your apartment, wasn't it? That would explain the note you left.”

Sadie nodded. “I saw him coming out of the room. Then a policeman came and made me go away with that man you were fighting with. They took me to a house and kept me there. There was a negress who beat me. I tried and tried to stick it out, but I couldn't. She beat me every hour of the day. I had to give in.” She sat up and beat her knees with her fists. Her face was twisted with fear and rage. “Do you understand? I wouldn't do what she wanted me to do. So she kept on and on and on. Every day they tied me to the bed. There was a nigger who stripped me... Do you understand that? She let him put his filthy hands on me. He stood and laughed at me when she beat me. I tried... but I couldn't stand it any more.” She sobbed again. “What was I to do? There are other girls, decent girls like me. They were brought to the house and men were sent into their rooms. I can still hear their screams. Beasts of men used to pay moneylots of moneyto assault them. They liked them to fight and screamthey paid more and more money if they really fought. It was horrible.”

Jay tapped off the ash from his cigarette. This made him feel bad.

“Then this man Cruise came one day. He inspected all the girls. He took them all away. I don't know what happened to them. He treated them as if they were cattle. He took me. He brought me here. I was to be his slave. Well, I was crazy. I refused. I told him to get out. So what do you think he did?” Her sobbing was so violent he could hardly hear what she was saying. “He tied me to the bed and hehe poured turpentine over me.

Do you know what that means? He left me lying there all night. I was gagged. I couldn't move, and it burnt....

Oh. God! How it burnt!”

Jay thought: “Here it is. Right with the lid off. This is the stuff that I want. I can start somethin' now.” He said to her, “Grantham? Does he come into this?”

She nodded miserably. “He works for Cruise,” she gasped. “He comes here and they talk. I've heard things.

They got houses all over the town. They get girls from Denver, from Springfieldseverywhere. Don't you understand? They're good girls. They take them from their homes and they make them do this work. Oh, you must stop it! You must stop it!”

Jay patted her hand. “I'll stop it,” he said grimly. He got up and reached for the phone. “Give me the Federal Bureau of Investigation,” he said.

September 8th, 5 p.m.

GRANTHAM looked round the large room, his face cold and sneering. There were some thirty girls standing around the room. Some of them had on wraps, others just wore knickers and black stockings. They were all looking sullen and were only suppressing their fury because Madam, a big, hard−featured woman, stood behind Grantham.

Grantham said, “You girls've got to shake up your ideas. We've done badly here this week. I'm going to try a little experiment. Next week you'll all go on a commission basis. See how you get on with that.” There was a low murmur from the girls. Madam said, “Shut up, you!”

Grantham's lips twisted into a sneering smile. He turned to Madam. “You've been too soft with these bitches,” he said. “Get hold of the ringleaders and turn them over to my men. They'll knock the starch out of them. What the hell do they think they're here forfun?”

Out of the crowd of girls Fan suddenly pressed forward. “Hey, bastard,” she said, “let me tell you something. Since you've taken over, we girls ain't had any breaks. We don't get money. We don't know how much we've earned. Now you say you're just giving us commission.”

Grantham looked her over. “Who do you think you're talkin' to?” he said.

“Heel number one,” Fan returned. “I for one ain't goin' to take any more from yousee?”

Grantham turned to Madam. “What you waitin' for? That's one of 'em who wants handlin'.”

Madam walked over to Fan, who stood her ground, her eyes flashing dangerously. She said, “Lay off, or you'll get hurt.”

There was a long pause, then the door jerked open and Lu came in with a rush. His face was covered with livid bruises and his collar and tie were missing.

Grantham stared at him. “What the hell?”

“Come on, boss,” Lu panted, “I've got a car outside. The lid's blown off. Let's go.”

“You mad?” Grantham said, forgetting that the girls were listening curiously.

“I tell you we've got to beat it. That swine Ellinger's got the Perminger dame. She'll spill everything.”

Grantham went white with rage. “I told you to get her,” he snarled.

“I knowI know. Don't stand arguing. I tried. He got there first. Come on, boss.”

Grantham turned to the door. Fan got in his way and he shoved her to one side. “Get out of my way, you cow!” he shouted.

Fan seemed to go mad. She sprang at him, shrieking for the other girls to join in. Grantham flung her away, and then went down under a heap of furious harpies.

Lu hesitated, then turned and bolted for the door. Julie threw herself in his way and they went down on the floor together. Three other girls piled on top of him.

Fan was shrieking like a madwoman. “Give it to the swines! Tear 'em apart!” she yelled, making a dive at Madam, who ran screaming out of the room.

Grantham fought his way to his feet, hitting out right and left with his fists. He was badly frightened. It was only by swinging his arms violently that he kept off the claw−like fingers that quested for his face. He took a couple of steps back as the shrieking girls bore down on him, and then his heel was seized by one of the fallen ones and he went over with a thud that shook the room.

Lu was bawling for help as he twisted and squirmed under the mass of girls. Grantham had his hands too full to do anything. He beat them off a second time and got to the door.

“Don't let him get out!” Fan screamed. “Bring the bastard down!” She rushed across the room and flung herself on Grantham, biting and tearing at him with her teeth and nails.

Grantham swung his fist and hit her in her throat, sending her reeling backwards. He pulled open the door and got out into the hall.

Andree and Julie pulled him down as he reached the front door. Andree traced three livid marks on his face with her nails. Grantham began to sob for breath. He kicked them away and bolted upstairs.

Lu was helpless in the hands of the girls who had seized him. There was a girl hanging on to each of his limbs, pinning him to the floor. His clothes were in ribbons and his face was a mask of blood where they had clawed him. He screamed on a high note with terror as they dragged the rest of his clothes off him.

Fan fought her way to him, pulling off the girls and throwing them on one side. “Let me get at the heel!”

she shrilled. “I'll teach him somethin'. Get out of the way!”

The girls drew back, their faces savage and lustful. They crowded round again, as Fan knelt over the sobbing man.

“Get a knife, someone,” she shouted. “I'm goin' to fix this guy so he doesn't play around any more.”

A knife materialized from somewhere and was handed over the heads of the girls. Fan seized it.

Lu gave a horrible strangled scream when he saw the flash of steel, and when she laid hands on him he nearly went mad. “Don't do itdon't do it!” he screamed. “Nononoaaah! Aaaaah!”

The girls suddenly drew away, leaving him lying there. A long ribbon of blood ran towards them so that they drew further back, shuddering.

Fan, her eyes gleaming madly, shrilled, “What are you waitin' for? Where's the other one?”

In a body they stampeded for the door. Andree and Julie had already gone upstairs. They could hear them thumping on a door.

Fan, her hands covered in blood, ran up the stairs, with the others behind her. They brushed the two girls away from the door and threw themselves forward. The door creaked and bulged, but held.

Grantham backed against the wall, terrified. He rushed to the window and threw it up. Far below him he could see cars passing and people moving about in the streets. He leant far out of the window and began to yell at the top of his voice.

Faces turned towards him. People stopped and pointed. Cars came to a standstill, and people got out to look at him. He saw a policeman move towards the house with a slow measured tread. Behind him he heard the door creak, and he yelled again, his voice going off pitch with terror.

Then with a crash the door flew open, and he spun round, his back to the window.

Fan stood there, her hair wild and her eyes savage. He saw the bloodstained knife gripped in her hand and he turned back to the window. He heard his own voice screaming in panic as he tried to climb out.

They all came across the room in a wave. Hands seized him and dragged him back. He went down under them with a thin wail of terror.

September 8th, 5.30 p.m.

RAVEN glanced at the clock and stood up. It was time he got back to his hotel. He nodded to Maltz. “It's goin' all right,” he said. “We'll have to open some more houses. The girls are comin' in now faster than we can handle them.”

Maltz grunted. “The cops at Denver are workin' on this, boss,” he said. “There's been a hell of a lot of squawks from that town. Maybe we ought to ease up on the girls there.” Raven nodded. “Sure,” he said; “put a little more pressure on Cleveland. When things start getting hot, try somewhere else.”

He went to the door. “I'm goin' back now,” he said. “You might go over to the 22nd tonight. I'm expecting a batch of girls to come in. Grantham's gettin' too busy to handle that sort of thing now.”

Maltz said he would, and Raven went out. He walked down the stairs, his face thoughtful. All the afternoon he had been worrying. He knew someone wanted to get his finger−prints. When the St. Louis house dick had brought him the cigarette−case his suspicions had been aroused. It couldn't be the authorities. They would never have used a broken−down flatfoot like Harris.

The last three months of easy living had not blunted his finely developed sense of self−preservation. He had got on too well to risk anything now.

Out in the street he hesitated before calling a taxi. Something told him that he shouldn't return to the hotel.

Yet, he told himself savagely, he'd got to. All his dough was there.

As he neared the hotel he leant forward and told the driver to go straight on past. He crouched back in the cab and examined the hotel carefully as they went by. He saw nothing there to alarm him. Still he wasn't satisfied. He stopped the taxi at the next block and paid him off. Then he went into a phone booth and rang his apartment. The clerk said apologetically that he could get no answer. He asked sharply if his wife was out.

The clerk told him he hadn't seen her go. Raven hung up.

By now he was a little alarmed. He wondered if Grantham knew anything. When he rang Grantham's office he was told that he was out, but was expected any minute.

“Where's he gone?” he asked.

The girl said, “To Madam Lacey's house.”

Raven hung up and immediately rang Madam Lacey's. A hard voice answered him. It was a man's voice he couldn't place. He asked for Grantham.

“Who are you?” the voice snapped.

Raven sensed that it was a cop. He felt cold sweat suddenly break out under his arms. “Tell him it's Fleming,” he said; “I want to talk to him.”

“He's busy right now,” the voice said. “Suppose you come down.”

“I'll be right along,” Raven said, and hung up. There was something wrong. He rang up Maltz.

“Go over to the hotel and sniff around,” he said, after explaining what had happened. “Don't give yourself away. Just poke around quietly and meet me at Franky's in an hour's time.”

Maltz said he would.

Raven came out of the phone−box and lit a cigarette. He hailed a taxi and gave Madam Lacey's address. “I want you to cruise past the joint slowly, but you're not to stop.”

The taxi−driver said he'd do that and set the cab rolling. They reached the house in a few minutes, and Raven could see something was wrong. There were two police cars and an ambulance standing outside. A policeman stood at the door frowning at the large collection of people standing staring.

At the end of the road Raven paid off the taxi and walked slowly back towards the house. He kept on the opposite side of the road, his hand touching the handle of his hidden gun. He mingled with the crowd and stood watching.

Three patrol wagons came racing down the street, their sirens wailing, and drew up outside the house. The crowd surged forward, carrying Raven with them.

“What the hell's going on here?” he asked a guy who stood near him.

“They're raidin' a brothel,” the guy said with evident relish. “Seems a riot broke out inside. They say the dames in there set about two fellas and killed them.”

Raven started. “What do you meankilled them?”

“That's right,” a sheep−faced man broke in. “Two punks who ran the house. The girls got tough an' gave them the worksserve the lousy punks right.”

Just then the front door opened and the police began to bundle the girls out into the street. The crowd raised an ironic cheer. The girls were herded into the wagons, cops applying their night−sticks to their backsides as they fought and protested. It was a real outing for the crowd. The sheep−faced man yelled, “I bet those cops'll have a treat tonight.” The crowd raised a loud laugh. “Can we help you, copper,” another man bawled, “or can you manage that little lot yourself?”

Raven recognized Fan, Julie and Andree. He noticed they were handcuffed. Fan was being very troublesome, and the cops were treating her rough.

Raven was livid with suppressed rage. Each one of those girls brought him in a large income. What the hell did the cops mean by breaking into one of his houses? Then he remembered what the sheep−faced man had said. Uneasily, he waited. The wagons moved off, and then two white−coated attendants came out, carrying a stretcher. The crowd gave a groan of satisfaction and shoved forward some more. By stretching his neck Raven caught a glimpse of a figure covered with a white sheet being slid into the ambulance. Almost immediately two more attendants came out carrying another stretcher.